What the Shit, China? 4: Left-Over Women and Weak-Ass Men

What the shit should I write about? I don't have a single fucking clue. Let's see what comes to mind. My wife shared a video with me about China. Evidently they are mega-fucked up. I learned that women who are not married before the age of 30 are considered "left-over women". Parents will then write up a resume about the girls, and tape the resume to an area in a local park. People then go to the park and play matchmaker/pimp. As you can imagine, this is tremendously difficult for the woman.

(Warning: This video is somewhat emotional. Also, use subtitles.)

Now, when my wife told me about this, I told her that the "left-over" woman is better being single, than she is with a "microwave" man. My wife asked what I meant, and I explained. When I hear "left-over", I think of food. I get the image of dry, chewy, left-over meatloaf. That's not pleasant. Following the meal metaphors, I started think of the "microwave" man. The idea is that the man is a one of those microwave meals. It is a fast meal, that serves the purpose, but lacks the overall substance to be truly fulfilling. A woman marring a "microwave" man is like eating a pepperoni Hot Pocket, instead of eating a pepperoni pizza. Yes, it has the same general ingredients - and yes, it has the same general taste - but you know damn well that nothing can replace that pizza. "Microwave" men are the Hot Pockets of the pizza world.

On a related note, I think of Jim Gaffigan whenever someone references Hot Pockets. Hearing/watching this skit takes on a whole new level of humor, after I made my joke. It did for me, at least.

Speaking of "microwave" men, Chinese men need to step the fuck up. Now I will say, I do not actually know if all Chinese men follow the stereotype that my wife has shown me. But from what I have witnessed in Chinese pop culture, China prefers their men to look like women, and their women to look like skeletons. So many Chinese people seem to hate the idea of a fit, muscular man. When Justin fucking Bieber is too big, and stronger than the Chinese "ideal", there is a fucking problem.

(I mean, yes Bieber has been training. That said, he is no Dwayne Johnson.)

I cannot help but wonder if the reason for the terrible body-standards on women is because the men are so fucking weak. If you compare a mature stock of corn to a mature tree, the tree is stronger. If you compare that same stock to a blade of grass, the corn is stronger. I cannot help but wonder if Chinese men are the corn, and are demanding the women to be the grass. A pleasant side note is that this analogy also would allow for the fact that Chinese men seem to have the right to walk all over Chinese women. Because fuck equality, am I right?

One of my wife's friends had a boyfriend that was so small, he accidentally mistook her pants for his. Not only that, but her pants were loose on him. Meanwhile, I have to buy pants one size too large, simply to get my ass and quads to keep from busting a fucking seem. I honestly cannot fathom a culture where weakness is sought after. I can understand the idea of not pursuing strength. That's fair. In this day and age, people do not need to be strong to survive/provide. That said, who actively tries to get weaker? I mean shit. If that's the ideal, all they have to do is go to Hebei province and take a deep breath. I'm sure the pollution would be enough to give people some cancer or one of the hepatitis letters.

(That's a real photo of people training Tai-Chi in Hebei. The fog is pollution. See? Hep. All the hep.)

Moral of the Story: I don't believe in the concept of "left-over" women, I will now refer to shitty men as "microwave" men or Hot Pockets, and I don't think strength should ever be considered a weakness.

Well, This is Awkward

Get ready, I'm about to talk about political shit. Why? Because yesterday was fucking ridiculous. For those who know, and those who don't, the US is in the transition from President Obama to President-elect Trump. Now, I cannot remember when this happened, but I entered to win tickets to the inauguration. My logic was sound, in that I thought Hillary Clinton was going to win. I didn't expect to get tickets, but at least I had a chance to witness history (first female president of the United States). When I entered, my wife asked what would happen if Trump won. I told her that, should Trump win, she and I could witness the death of American democracy. 

Now, at the time, I thought it was a hilarious joke. There were 174 tickets released to people in our state. I would have bet money that we would not get them. Then some crazy-ass shit happened. American elected motherfucking Trump. I mean, what the fuck was America thinking? Don't get me wrong, I can respect Trump's ability to stay relevant. He talks mad shit on Twitter, has a TV show, and can bluff his way around the business table. 

Then the next crazy thing happened. Trump started talking mad shit to China. Between denouncing the "One China" policy and the bullshit with a drone, Trump has antagonized China like a son-of-a-gun. What's worse? This drone business took place after the White House already fixed the fucking issues. In the mean time, Russia has started investing in nuclear materials again. Trump, not to be outdone, has tweeted that he would also like to amass nuclear resources, Because the Cold War clearly didn't suck the last time.

And that brings me to the most recent crazy-ass shit. My wife and I won tickets to the inauguration. That's right. 174 tickets for the entire state, and my wife and I get two. I literally voted for every candidate that lost. My folks had entered, and they did not win any. My mom's reaction was, "It feels like you just received tickets to be violated. I was rejected by both senators. It is not surprising they went with the white male. I think the music for the inauguration is probably banjos. Good luck."

To be fair, I am a white male. In fact, I have blonde hair and blue eyes. I'm an Aryan wet-dream, except for the whole Jew thing. Speaking of which, a group on Instagram liked one of my photos. Turns out they are a "Nordic Pride" group. It also turns out that "Nordic Pride" translates to "White Pride". Talk about gross. And before anyone here says shit, no the photo wasn't racist. It was literally a picture of my deadlift personal record. Fucking white power people ruin everything. 

Now of course, my wife and I told our friends about the situation. We thought it was hilarious. I literally roast the shit out of Trump each day. My wife shares with me the world events, according to China, and I share a witty little quip about Trump signaling the death of America. So when we go to the inauguration, if we go, it is to troll the shit out of it. Our friends maintain that we need to not attend, so that it has the lowest turnout of any historical inauguration. 

Fuck. That. We want to go. My wife is looking at a shirt that has an anchor on it. The idea being that the anchor will be positioned over our son, making a commentary on the "anchor baby" bullshit that the Republicans spewed forth. I want a t-shirt with the Russian flag, or the Hammer and Sickle, that says, "I Voted". Again, commentary on the reported Russian interference in our elections. And so that's it. My wife and I talk a lot of shit about Trump, and yet we may still see his inauguration.

Moral of the Story: Trump says stupid shit. We seem to be moving toward Cold War II. Oh, and Arnold Schwarzenegger is taking over for Trump on the Apprentice. Because that makes sense. 

Random Science

This is a very short post, but I want to share how amazing my wife is at science. Let's be honest. We all wonder about random shit. I once had a detailed conversation with a buddy about whether mermaid sex was bestiality. We decided it depended on which half was the fish. 

My wife once had a conversation with her friend about renewable energy, and harvesting methane gas. In particular, they started looking at the sustainability of harvesting methane from flatulence. Now, I would be lying if I said that I did not have the same thought. I would also be lying if I said that I conducted a basic feasibility analysis on the subject. 

Evidently, my wife and her friend did run these calculations. They determined that, to boil a standard 1.3 liter kettle of water, an adult would need the methane generated from approximately 3,600 farts. This was based on the equations: 

Q = cmΔt ≈ 473 KJ

n = Q / ΔH = 0.53 mol

Moral of the Story: That is a shit-tonne of gas, and I would not drink that tea.

I also learned that my wife has no fear of ghosts. In fact, she is only curious about the science behind specters. My wife told me that she can understand most everything on a conceptual level, except for how ghosts are able to defy gravity. She is also uncertain about how ghosts can generate the momentum necessary to interact and move in the physical plain. I asked what would happen if my wife every met a real ghost. She said she would ask for those two bits of information. Once she understands the science/physics behind the ghost, fuck it, the ghost and kill her if it wants.

Moral of the Story: My wife may not be the best choice for the Ghostbusters.

Baby Daddy 20: Fear of The Dark and First-Aid

It just so happens that this post is about how my wife and I plan to help our kids. Everyone knows that there are going to be times when we have to be strong for our children. I acknowledge this. I accept this. I also believe that some of these times will be easier than others. Case and point: injuries.

Why do I mention injuries? Because last night I pinched my thumb between a 35-lb plate, and the barbell. And as you can imagine, I cursed like a motherfucker. My nail instantly bruised, and I had sudden images of the nail dying and falling off. Are you revolted? Good. Now you know my pain. Not really, but maybe.

Anyway, when I told my wife about this - and showed her the thumb nail - she immediately gagged and looked away. As it turns out, my wife has the same aversion to blood and injury that I do. At that point, we realized that I will have to be the one that takes care of our kids' cuts and scrapes. Why? Because my wife will immediately look away and start saying, "No, no, no, no, talk to your father, no, no, no, no." At that point, I will have to administer the first-aid. Unfortunately, the site of cuts and scrapes makes my tushy quiver. And so I will administer first-aid, but I will not have the ability to sit when I do. I will also end up constipated for at least a day. 

And looking at it, that's okay. My wife is going to be much better suited for other matters. Case and point: fear of the dark. 

No, I am not talking about the Iron Maiden song. Don't get me wrong, I love the song, but I am talking about the actual fear. As soon as our kids mention a fear of the dark, my wife plans to give the explanation provided by Elon Musk:

That's right. In cases where our kids have a fear, my wife is going to science the shit out of it to nullify that fear. I will likely have a different reaction. Mine will likely follow the explanation of Cyanide and Happiness:

Moral of the Story: I'm in charge of first-aid and my wife is in charge of anything that can be explained scientifically. Also, this is the song I referenced: